The Invisible Ring

spell unleash? Would it radiate from a central point or just fan out on this side of the creek? The damage a psychic unleashing could do would depend on the strength of the person who had fed the spell. His and the Gray Lady’s inner barriers should be able to hold against that kind of unleashing, but the others might not survive it. If the spell manifested in some physical way . . .
    Wind? Water?
    They reached the road at the same moment the spell unleashed.
    Jared glanced over his shoulder and saw a mature tree explode skyward like a burning arrow released from a bow.
    The muscles in his chest locked. He couldn’t breathe.
    Behind them, a huge ball of witchfire consumed the trees around the creek and expanded outward at a fierce speed.
    Jared urged the gelding on, trying to wring a little more speed out of the animal.
    Witchfire had a radius. It had a limit that depended on the amount of power that had been used to create it. It could heat and it could burn—sweet Darkness, how it could burn!—but it couldn’t continue expanding after the power was exhausted. With all the rain they’d had over the past few days, it wasn’t likely that the witchfire would spark a natural fire. They should be safe enough ... if they could outrun it.
    He saw the wagon rattling down the road ahead of them.
    He heard the witchfire roaring behind him.
    Too slow. Too slow!
    Jared pressed against the Gray Lady. If the witchfire caught up to them, he’d risk the working distance of that twisting spell and throw a Red shield behind them. Even if that spell turned his own strength against him, the shield might buy her enough time to escape the witchfire.
    They were gaining on the wagon.
    The witchfire was gaining on them.
    The roan mare Blaed was riding squealed and shot ahead of them.
    Jared felt the heat on his back.
    He raised his hand at the same moment the Gray Lady raised hers.
    Swearing when he saw the Green Jewel in her ring, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand down before she could throw up a shield. He’d risk the range of the twisting spell and having his own power turned against him, but he’d be damned if he’d let her risk it.
    Fire roared behind them.
    The wagon was too close now. Too close.
    The gelding raced past a tree a second before the fire consumed it.
    “We made it!” Blaed shouted. “Mother Night, we made it!”
    Jared glanced back.
    A wall of witchfire filled the road behind them, but it wasn’t moving forward anymore.
    “Thank the Darkness.” Jared pressed his cheek against the Gray Lady’s head as he reined in the laboring horse. When the gelding slowed to a stumbling walk, he slid off its back. He wasn’t sure his legs would hold him, but they couldn’t afford to ruin the horses. “Come on, boy,” he soothed, sliding the reins over the gelding’s lowered head so he could lead it. “A little farther and you can rest.”
    He looked at the Gray Lady slumped in the saddle, her face hidden by her wet, tangled hair. His eyes narrowed.
    Funny. He wouldn’t have thought gray hair would look that dark when it was wet.
    “Jared!” Brock shouted.
    The wagon had slowed to a walk, too. Brock swung off the driving seat and jumped to the ground.
    Jared waved at him. “Keep them walking.”
    Brock started toward him, looked behind Jared at the Gray Lady, and hesitated. Then he waved an acknowledgment and turned around.
    The wagon door opened. Looking pale, Thera braced herself in the opening. Her green eyes swept over Blaed, who was leading the mare, and Corry, who was still in the saddle, pale and shaking. They lingered for a moment on the Gray Lady, and finally settled on him.
    Jared had the uneasy feeling she was looking for some kind of answer. Problem was, he didn’t know the question.
    Before he could say anything, she stepped back and closed the door.
    Jared looked at Blaed and frowned. “I told you to go.”
    Blaed shrugged. “Thera told me to bring you back. If I had to fight with someone about it, better you than her.”
    Jared grunted. Then he slanted another look at the young Warlord Prince. “You like her.”
    “She’s got a Harpy’s temper,” Blaed snapped as his face colored.
    Jared grinned. “You like her.” The grin faded. Slaves couldn’t afford those kinds of feelings.
    They walked for several minutes before Jared whistled sharply and raised his hand, calling a halt. The horses were cool enough to stand for a few minutes while they changed into dry clothes and got the Gray Lady settled into the wagon. She hadn’t